I’m pleased that I decided to re-read my collection of Louise Candlish novels, interspersed with books by other favourite authors as well as a few new ones. I discovered Louise Candlish’s writing about twelve years ago, courtesy of ‘TheBookbag’. I started acquiring more of her books, but the more recent ones seem to be thrillers, and I prefer the gentler style of her older books. I read ‘Since I don’t have you’ in 2010, and remembered almost nothing about it.
Rachel is the main protagonist, and the book is written in the first person. We meet her first at her daughter Emma’s sixth birthday party, where her husband Ollie hasn’t managed to get away from work. However her best friends Mariel and Jenny are there, with their daughters Cat and Daisy, who are Emma’s closest friends. The adults have made a pact that if any of the children is orphaned, for whatever reason, the others will step into the fray. Rachel is Cat’s godmother and Daisy’s legal named guardian, although of course they all hope that nothing will occur to trigger their promises.
It wasn’t until a few chapters later that I had an inkling of what was going to happen - and it was the only part I recalled even vaguely from the first time I read this. A terrible tragedy rips everyone’s lives apart, and while they are all grieving in their different ways, Rachel can’t take any more: so she flies to Santorini. This small Greek island is where her mother was born, and lived for her first decade or so, until an earthquake destroyed many homes, and killed her sister. So she won’t go back, and won’t even talk about it. But Rachel has often wondered what it might be like, and now she goes alone, to be away from everyone.
After the first few terrible weeks, Rachel begins to get to know some of the locals, keeping herself and her background quite private. There’s a lot of information about Santorini, some of which was interesting but I did skim quite a few of the descriptive passages. I’m sure they’re authentic, as are the Greek words and phrases thrown in here and there, but they didn’t add much to the story.
The first time I read this book I found it immensely moving and poignant. This time, not so much. Not because I couldn’t feel something for those left behind from the tragedy, but because I didn’t find Rachel all that sympathetic a person. She realises much later in the book that she’s been quite self-centred; not surprisingly, given her circumstances, but it doesn’t make her a particularly likeable character. Nor did I much like Palmer, a private investigator she employs and becomes quite close to; their relationship never felt authentic, for some reason.
However the writing is very good, and some of the other characters feel quite realistic. I liked The friendly local Eleni, and the Australian Ingrid who treats life pretty casually, despite a very difficult childhood. I liked Ollie too, although he has many faults; he’s an extremely generous person, and I felt he had something of a raw deal, although he ends up happy enough. Mariel, too, is a kind, peace-loving and affirming person - it’s a bit surprising that her daughter Cat becomes something of a rebel in her teens.
I did like re-reading this book and am glad I did, but didn’t feel so drawn into it as I did eleven years ago. Maybe it’s because I’m older and further removed from having young children; maybe I’ve become more cynical. I’d still recommend it, with the warning that there are strong triggers in it for anyone who has suffered from an unexpected and shocking bereavement; to say more would be to give spoilers, although the awful event happens fairly early in the book and is sensitively described.
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